


Fracture

by orphan_account



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: AU, Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Family Bonding, Magic, Mild Gore, Other, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:44:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6078129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper Pines has been dabbling in arts he shouldn't be due to Gravity Falls' interesting effect on him, and as far as Mabel is concerned, she's going to lose her twin because of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Letter

**Author's Note:**

> This was honestly a 3AM idea and I'm flattered people like it. I have no idea what I am doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no clue what I am doing and I don't edit. So yeah. Have fun I guess.

Throughout the year Dipper had begun to send letters. To Wendy, to Soos, but mostly to Stan and Ford when he could. It was significantly more difficult to send letters to your family when they are constantly traveling overseas on a boat. Despite these obstacles, and with a little bit of help, Dipper maintained a steady stream of letters. Most of them were updates on himself and Mabel, and retaining his constant inquisitive nature by asking a multitude of questions to which he almost always received responses to. However, his most recent letters had been met with silence. He worried that his great uncles weren't getting them, or maybe he'd done something wrong...

In truth, it was the content. Three letters had passed since the last reply, and he was beginning to worry. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned the notes he'd been making, the work he'd been doing. Except, it was less work. Not science, not at all. But, it was something Dipper had been working on since the twins' departure from Gravity Falls. He looked away from the paper on his desk, setting his pen down slowly. His next letter... he was beginning to think he shouldn't have sent it. It was entirely possible that what he'd been dabbling in was more dangerous than he'd anticipated, but it did seem harmless enough. Dipper simply wished that he would get an answer soon.

Mabel's voice chimed in beside his head, mentioning plans for winter break. They had the option to go back to Gravity Falls, but there was the chance that they'd have no one to stay with. Dipper had mentioned it in one of his previous letters, asking for a response on when they would be back, but again had not received any word.

"Dipper, look!" Mabel dropped a single envelope onto Dipper's desk, forcing him to focus in on it. The script on the front was now doubt Stanford's handwriting - Dipper had only scrutinized that same handwriting reading through the journal a _thousand_ times - and his heart soared. The young teen lifted the envelope, weighing it in his hand, and was sorely disappointed at how thin and light it was, unlike previous letters. But, his excitement was hardly dampened by that fact, and Mabel looked on over his shoulder as he shredded at the paper, prying the actual letter from within the confines of the envelope.

The paper was slightly crumpled, and the ink had run, but the words were still legible. Dipper's brown eyes scanned the paper, taking in the information briefly. The large paragraph was from both of the elder Pines twins, excitedly telling Dipper and Mabel that they would be back in Gravity Falls if the pair would like to return to the Shack for winter break. Mabel whooped excitedly at this, racing off to pack her bags despite the holiday still being a week away. The male twin watched her go, a small smile appearing on his face as she swung Waddles in a circle on her way to grab her duffel bag. The pig oinked in protest at the quick movement, to which Mabel responded with more rambling that Dipper tuned out upon seeing the next small block of text.

Whereas the first paragraph had no doubt been written by both Stan and Ford, with their handwriting mingling on the page with different details, the second was entirely in the neat scripture of Ford.

_And Dipper, I know that what you've been doing is interesting, and frankly I find it fascinating, but it is dangerous. You need to be extremely careful with it. Just like anything, it is power and needs to be handled responsibly. Also, I thought you should know that I found something particularly interesting. Or rather, it found me. I've been having dreams again, about our Friend. He seems to be returning, but I don't know how he is doing it. What you're studying could potentially help us, but I ask that you please be careful, because if our Friend is coming back somehow, he might lock onto what you are doing and try to trick you again. This is very serious Dipper, I know you can handle the responsibility but for everyone's sake, stop practicing it, at least for now._

Dipper's heart dropped like a stone. Not that he'd been told to abandon his newfound art, but that Ford was having similar dreams. They avoided mentioning Bill directly in their letters, out of personal preference more than anything, and had simply dubbed him with the alias, 'our Friend.' For a week or so now, Dipper had been having strange dreams about the triangular demon, most of them resulting in increased paranoia as he woke up in an anxious sweat. Thankfully he'd managed to dodge Mabel when this happened - there was no point in letting the exuberant twin become worried - but it was still concerning. And lately, those dreams seemed to be turning into something more akin to his original encounters with Bill, which could only mean bad things.

Tension buzzed at Dipper's fingertips. He folded the letter absently. _Stop practicing it, at least for now._ The pressure in his core twisted sourly. His work, his art, he couldn't simply stop practicing it! But if Ford was right, Dipper was putting himself and his family at risk, so he forced the temperamental feeling to bind itself tight in his core, mentally cursing his lack of skill. It was no doubt going to be a long week without any outlet. Maybe longer. The young teen sighed, pushing off of his seat and shoving the letter into the corner of his desk, atop a stack of other torn envelopes. He stood there for a moment, looking at his desk. A mess of papers, equations, and diagrams were scattered across the wood surface, most of them worth nothing because it simply wasn't natural. The little control Dipper had over it was astounding enough, the equations were simply wild guesses at explaining the power he'd developed and begun to manipulate.

Then he moved, reaching under his bed for his duffel bag. He was already half packed, having thrown together his bags and unpacking them again, a process repeated a hundred times in waiting for any response from his great uncles. Now he pulled everything out, and stared at it. Mabel was working busily on choosing some of her favorite sweaters, telling Waddles just how excited she was. The pig listened intently, grunting in answer to all of Mabel's questions.

Dipper's focus returned to his bag. He reached in between his mattress and bed frame, prying loose a thick leather-bound writing journal. A set of lines was carved into the front cover, hastily done with a pocket knife under the light of a single candle. He traced the pine tree with his fingertips, then tucked the book into a hidden pocket he'd sewn into his bag. The stitches of said pocket were shabby to say the least, but it was never mentioned, and therefore safe, so he left the book in good conscious. Out of habit, the young teen reached for Wendy's hat, and he grabbed the accessory and dropped in unceremoniously on his head. He felt a little more secure with it on, and refolded his clothes for the hundredth time. This time, when he finished, he left the bag at the foot of his bed, with Wendy's hat perched on it. That night he fell into bed, the room lit only by the candles on his desk.

"Hey Mabel?" he shot across the room to his sister.

"Yeah bro-bro?" she responded, turning in her bed to face him - and by extension curling around Waddles. Dipper paused. If Mabel knew what he was becoming, what he could _do_ , it would tear them apart. Ford was right, in retrospect. Dipper's power was dangerous. He quickly whipped up an excuse, after a moment of silence.

"I can't wait to get back to Gravity Falls." His voice seemed so quiet and small. Mabel frowned in the dark, glad her hair and her pig were shielding her face in the dim candlelight. He was no doubt hiding something, and she'd learn sooner or later, but the way he scowled when he looked at his notes, and the angry, frustrated noises he made when he was alone in a room, 'practicing' as he said, it was becoming concerning to the female twin. She was good at masking her concern, sure, because if Dipper really didn't want to tell her, then she wasn't going to pry. Her brother was, no doubt, getting tired. Mabel couldn't make heads or tails of his notes, and half of it was in a language she didn't even know he knew. It was beginning to feel like, _whatever_ Dipper was studying, she was losing her twin.

"Me too." she whispered back, turning over again.

Dipper gazed in Mabel's direction, then stared at the candles. A wisp of the pressure deep in his core reached out, snuffing all thirteen candles in a single motion. He tucked the tendril of power back with the rest, and fell into uncomfortable sleep, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach, as the candle-smoke ghosted in the form of an eye.


	2. The Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares tend to follow you into the real world, when you're paranoid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a bit of what could be considered gore in this one I guess, so watch out for that. Nothing too horrible by my standards, but if that sort of thing makes you uncomfortable I would most definitely skip the first three paragraphs or so. Also, thank you for reading! Really blows my mind that people actually like this.

Dipper's eyes jumped open, clammy sweat rolling down his temples. He was shaking, and obviously crying - the wetness on his cheeks made this more than apparent - but he couldn't be quite sure why. For a moment he was staring at nothing, just a blank whiteness, then he forced himself to look around. His eyes instinctively fell to his hands, as if a magnetic field controlled his gaze. Mabel was pinned beneath his body; her head was turned at an odd angle and he couldn't see her chocolate brown eyes from where he sat, straddling her stomach. His hands were pressed over her chest, and she wasn't breathing beneath him. Gaining conscious control over himself, Dipper jumped and pulled his hands away from his sister's corpse. The action shifted her beneath him, and her head detached from her neck with a sickening snap of stretched skin. The male twin stared in horror as he forced himself up, unable to turn away.

A massive pike of ice was lodged in Mabel's body, and his hands were cold. He could see the frost on his fingertips, feel the buzz of power beneath his skin and when he breathed out it came in a cloud of frozen vapor. He stared in horror as his hands jerked up, not of his own accord, and ice crept along Mabel's beheaded body. Dipper could sense every molecule freezing into place, and he clenched his hands into fists. Mabel's ice-wreathed body shattered into fragments of bloodied frozen water and Dipper cried out sharply, finally turning his head to look away and jamming his eyes shut.

When he reopened them, he was staring at his own reflection. His horrified expression mirrored back at him, then the mouth twisted into a sick grin. He watched in terror as his brown eyes were flooded with the color of molten gold, pupils slitting, teeth sharpening. He reached out to break the mirror, and watched as he lost control of his actions again. His palm facing the mirror and the grinning face of his Bill-possessed body, he felt heat writhe beneath his nerves. Weak fire sprung around his hands, and the mirror went up in flames. He laughed, at first, because he was watching Bipper burn. Then he laughed, but it wasn't his own. Dipper no longer wanted to laugh but couldn't stop, as his demonic reflection reached for him through the bubbling, melting glass. Their hands clasped and Bipper twisted Dipper's wrist, so his hand was over the helpless teen's own in a show of dominance. The flames between them bled cyan as Bill's voice filled the space. Bright fire encased Dipper's body, and he writhed in pain but was still laughing as Bipper stood over him, eyes aglow with hatred. The shoe of his demonic doppleganger hovered in his vision, then came down upon his face with the sickening crack of his own skull crumbling.

Dipper's eyes jumped open and he sat up in bed, clammy sweat rolling down his temples. He shuddered visibly and wiped the tears from his cheeks, forcing himself to steady his breathing. His first instinct was to look over to the opposite bed, where Mabel was curled around a stuffed toy. There was a small smile on her face and her eyes were closed peacefully. The male teen breathed a sigh of relief; his hands were shaking as he stood up and lit one of his candles - manually, deciding not to dip into his power tonight. That dream was just one of many horrible terrors that plagued his mind near constantly. Bipper was a common sight in many of these, but never Bill himself. Only fragments of him, the eye who's gaze bored into Dipper's skin, the shadow sliding along the wall behind him, cyan fire on the edges of his vision. Maybe Ford was right about Bill coming back? 

He entertained the thought for a few moments, then sat down at his desk. He pulled out a scrap of paper and plucked one of his favorite pencils from the cup in the right corner of the desk. Dipper sat like that for a long while, pencil poised over the blank paper as he pondered what course of action to take. Finally, he began another letter, addressing it to Ford; half a minute in, he scowled at the messy writing and lit another candle, scrapping his first draft and pulling another loose scrap of paper. This time he wrote at the top of the paper, bit his lip, skipped a line, and continued his letter. Not to Ford, or Stan, or even Wendy or Soos. 

_Bill -_

_I've been having more nightmares than usual, thanks to you. Most of them about my new powers. I wonder if you had anything to do with that? Mabel certainly doesn't have any, that I know of. I've been doing some research into it and found a lot of references to triangular sigils and symbols, and I can't help but wonder if that's your doing._

Dipper frowned, at what he was writing. He didn't even know why he was writing it; with a decisive grunt the teen dropped his pencil back into the cup and crumpled the paper up, tossing it behind him. The paper careened to the right as a small breeze wafted through the open window, tossing the wad of paper and graphite into the open side-pocket of Dipper's duffel bag. 

Ford had warned him that his power was dangerous, told him to stop practicing the art even. But, Dipper rationalized, it wouldn't be dangerous if he could learn to control the innate power. Dipper yawned, leaning his head against his arm. The candles' light flickered, casting shadows about his face. Mabel shifted in her bed, and Dipper looked up quickly. She was facing him, the low v-neck of her nightshirt exposing her chest just below the collar bone. The male teen blinked, thinking for a second he was hallucinating, and lit the other candles quickly. 

**His hands over her chest, a pike of conjured ice buried in her flesh, a spiraling mark of ragged impaled skin-**

The candles flared, brightening the room to near daylight in response to his fear. He jumped, forcing his power to wrap itself firmly in his gut and snuffing out the candles. His heart pounded as he laid down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Dipper dragged his hands through his coffee-brown hair, as he gasped slightly. There was a mark on her chest, swollen and yellow as if frostbitten. The male twin balled his hands into fists, clutching them to chest in horror. His power was hurting her. It really was dangerous, even with his constant practice.

******What have I done?**

No sleep came to Dipper Pines that night, after the nightmare. As dawn filtered in through the blinds, he groaned softly and eased himself off the mattress, grogginess clouding his head. Mabel's cheerfulness brought a smile to his face as he all but dragged himself across the room to his half of their shared closet for fresh clothing. With a pair of jeans and a clean shirt tucked under his arm, he departed to the bathroom to change. Dipper changed quickly, avoiding looking at his own reflection, and focused on yanking a comb through his unkempt bedhead. With the tangles more or less tamed, he plucked one of his hats from where it hung on the back of the bathroom door and finally turned his gaze onto the mirror.

Dipper all but recoiled at the sight. He looked normal, for the most part. His hair was parted funny - he fixed it right away - but the dark circles under his eyes were becoming horribly prominent and his mouth was twisted into a half-scowl that he couldn't quite seem to shake. And his brown eyes were flecked around the edges of the iris with bright gold, hardly noticeable unless in direct light but still there. And were his teeth sharper than before? He ran his tongue over his canines, but were assured that nothing had changed there.

Paranoia, Dipper decided, was a horrible thing to deal with. Sure, it had been a part of his every day life for a long time, but it was recently even more of a problem, and after seeing that mark on Mabel's chest, he had no doubt that he was in for a lot of sleepless nights. As he left the bathroom, he noticed that their bedroom was silent. Normally Mabel would be singing, or talking to Waddles, or simply babbling to keep herself company, but she was standing in front of the floor-length mirror in their room in complete and total silence. 

"Mabel..?" he entered the room cautiously. Her fingers were at her chest, tracing the edge of the frostbitten mark a few inches below her collarbone. Dipper's heart sank. 

"What happened here?" Mabel asked, not really to anyone in particular. Dipper bit his lip, stepping up beside her. 

"I- I'm sure its nothing, it doesn't look too bad. Maybe Waddles kicked you on accident or something?" he supplied, but his twin sister didn't look convinced. She stared at the mark absently for another few seconds, and then frowned. Dipper sighed inwardly, unsure of what to say for once. He glanced at the clock. "We need to go, or we'll be late for the bus."

Mabel blinked. 

"Oh! Right, I almost forgot! We still have another week!" she exclaimed, fixing her shirt collar - pretending not to notice Dipper wince when she grimaced at the slight pain of the frostbitten area of her chest - and pulling a sweater over her head. "Race you to the bus stop!"

Despite the grogginess and overall down-in-the-dumps attitude Dipper wore, his sister's enthusiasm plucked him out of his low and he gave a short, genuine laugh, racing after his sister with his school bag haphazardly thrown over a shoulder. One week until they would return to Gravity Falls.

One week until he could do something about the throbbing power writhing in his gut; until then, he simply hoped his sister's enthusiasm would be enough to keep him going. 

 **Just one more week, Pine Tree.** he thought absently, falling onto the school bus seat beside Mabel. The back of his neck itched, something was off, had he called himself...?

**Wait...What?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case anyone wants to point it out I did mean to repeat myself in paragraph 4. Writing style and all, heh. Also, I do my thoughts in bold to differentiate from any and all writing/other forms of communication that isn't dialogue.


	3. His Inner Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School is ending fast, and Dipper's power is becoming the least of his problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is honestly quickly becoming my baby. I've never been so motivated to work on a fanfic ever!

The school day seemed to drag on for an eternity as Dipper slunk from class to class. He only had one class with Mabel, which was his final period of the day, and as a result he was almost dreading it. Normally it was fine, he'd be glad to sit in class and pass notes back and forth, using the black-light pens he and Mabel were gifted with on their birthday. Today he was apprehensive, pausing outside the window. His power twisted in his gut, feeding on his anxiety greedily. Dipper gritted his teeth, forcing it down and entering the classroom. Mabel's seat was empty, which was odd. She was usually here earlier than that...

"Dipper! Sorry I'm late," Mabel cheered as she darted into the room, plunking down into her seat in front of him. Her bag was dropped unceremoniously beside her and she twisted in her chair, smiling at her twin. Dipper found himself smiling too; his sister's optimism had the wonderful trait of being contagious sometimes.

"Where were you, anyway?" He inquired, pulling his spiral from his bag and opening it. There was still a good few minutes before the teacher would come in, and it gave the twins a chance to talk and catch up on the events of the day. Mabel leaned on his desk, motioning for him to move in. Her voice was a whisper; Dipper found himself only half focused on her words as he stared at the barely exposed mark on her chest. Was it...spreading? He dragged himself from his thoughts in time to hear the end of her sentence.

"- and he asked me on a date!" she finished with a squeal. Dipper blinked, suddenly  _very_ interested in the conversation. 

"Wait, who again?" he asked, feigning disbelief to pull the answer from her. She swooned dramatically, leaning to drape herself across her own desk. 

"Anthony Warner!" Dipper recoiled. He knew his sister had a crush on the Warner boy, but as far as Dipper was concerned, Anthony was still just as nasty and rude as he was in second grade. Sure, Warner was growing into a rather handsome teen - not that Dipper thought so - and his personality was rounding out, but whenever the male Pines saw him, all he could think of was the guy who made fun of him for a good few months before finding someone else to pick on. 

Even if Dipper could hold a grudge for almost over seven years, Mabel was forgiving and kind; she saw the best in everyone, even Anthony Warner, and was very certain that he wasn't as mean as he had been seven years prior. Her crush had been little more than mild obsession over the past few months, and things were definitely working in her favor. Dipper was glad. 

As the teacher strolled into the room, taking roll and beginning the lesson in an unintentionally monotone voice, Dipper let his mind wander. 

 **I hope Mabel is OK. How did I even do that to her?** he thought, and reached for a scrap of paper. His black-light pen was tucked under his notebook, and he pulled it out. Not quite knowing what to say, he settled for a simple,  _are you ok? did you find out what was on your chest?_ He tapped the floor three times under his right shoe, and Mabel acted as if to scratch her neck. Dipper moved to pick up a dropped eraser, leaving the note in Mabel's hand as he went down, and came back up to hear the click of Mabel's black-light pen switching on. She grunted slightly.

Bad news.

Her reply came slowly, in her rather pretty handwriting. She dropped the paper and a pen at the same time. Dipper ducked to grab both, handing her the pen and unfolding the note slowly in his lap. His pen clicked, and he stared at the illuminated words. 

 _The nurse said it looked like frostbite. It hurts, all pins and needles._ Dipper swallowed thickly, sighing inwardly. He focused his attention - barely - on the teacher for a few moments and then gave up, raising his hand. The teacher turned, giving him an inquisitive look. 

"Yes, what is it, Mister Pines?" they asked. Dipper swallowed thickly, tucking his pen into the pocket of his shorts. 

"Can I use the restroom?" he asked slowly. The teacher nodded, expression souring at the interruption, and returned to the lesson. The brunet Pines took his chance to escape, speed walking until he was sure he was alone. He wound up pressed against a brick wall, out of sight behind a bush. He looked around for something to help him, and his brown eyes settled on a flower with a decidedly broken stem. 

Calling forth the power in his core, Dipper focused on the flower, spreading his fingers. He visualized the stem straightening, the cells healing and strengthening themselves. The flower's head twitched, slowly rising as a soft light blue mist curled between his splayed digits and around the stem of the broken flower. The color was soothing to the eyes, but reminiscent of -

**Blue flames, engulfing his hand, the world around him spinning, Bipper's cold stare, Bill's laugh in his ears -**

In horror Dipper watched as the blue mist that drifted around his hand was strained with veins of dark red that bled out, wrapping the flower in flames. Dipper yelped, stomping out the fire quickly. He leaned hard against the brick wall, suddenly aware that he was not alone. A stray cat was staring at him, its scraggly matted fur a light ginger and its eyes bright and blue. It blinked at him, curling its tail around its paws. 

He frowned at the feline, who meowed at him and turned, disappearing beyond the fence-line of the school. Distinctly chilled, Dipper stood up and took a step out from behind the bush, trying not to dwell on his failed healing of the flower. If he couldn't even do that, he couldn't heal his sister either. As he started to walk back, the school's final bell rang. 

Mabel met up with him outside the classroom, handing over his bag. 

"You ok, bro?" she asked him, leading the way to the bus stop. Dipper nodded absently, not really focused on his words as he worked the power in his gut down, forcing it to behave and sit obediently in his core. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," he assured her, casting a forlorn glance at his hands. Mabel didn't look convinced and folded her arms, brows furrowing as she concentrated on his face. 

"Are you sure? You've been acting really weird lately." She wasn't wrong, he reasoned, scratching the back of his head. His practice was putting him out of routine, and he was acting even weirder than normal by her standards. He found more comfort in guesses at the scientific meaning behind his power, and putting that new power to use, than he did in spending time with his family anymore. 

"I'm fine Sh-" he snapped his mouth shut, a cold chill dragging down his spine. "Sh-should I pack the red shirt or the orange shirt for winter vacation?" he all but squeaked, trying to save his slip up.  **What was that?!** Dipper demanded of himself as they climbed on the bus to go home.  **I almost called her -**

 _ **Shooting**_   ** _Star?_** He swallowed thickly. Everyone knows, one's internal thoughts are almost always in their own voice. So why did his internal monologue suddenly sound like _Bill?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens!  
> If anyone has any ideas of what they might like to see, in Fracture or in another fic entirely, send me an ask at my [ tumblr ](http://hell-heart.tumblr.com/) and who knows, if I like the idea I might start another completely new fic based on your idea! <3 
> 
> I have so many plans for this fic~


End file.
